My Journey with You Must End Here
by Slea
Summary: Non-Slash Lancelot contemplates the future with out Arthur. Something that popped in my head while watching the movie...after time...28


Disclaimer I own nothing. I do this for the love of the movie but should anyone involved with the movie wish to pay me for it… I would love that, too. Otherwise, I thank them for the wonderful work that has ignited a flame of passion in my heart.

special thanks to my beta

PS - "No knights were injured in the making of this storyline."

**My Journey with You Must End Here**

by Cyndi Slea Smith

"Knights, my journey with you must end here. May God go with you."

The words rang loudly in Lancelot's ears.

Arthur was doing it for her. Lancelot knew it, for in some strange way he knew, given the chance, he, himself would fight for the fair Guinevere as well. But that was all the more reason Lancelot knew he could not stay, and prayed Arthur would not stay. This fight was hopeless and in the end, Arthur would forfeit his life. It was that fear that made him chase the man down.

"Arthur, this is not Rome's fight. It is not your fight. All these long years we have been together, the trials we faced, the blood we shed, what was it all for if not for the rewards of freedom? And now when we are so close, it is finally with in our grasp. Look at me. Does it all count for nothing?"

"You ask me that, you who know me best of all?"

Those words stung like fire in Lancelot's heart; he did know him. He knew why he felt he needed to do this. But he could not bring himself to let go of the fear that dwelled just inside his heart.

"Then do not do this; only certain death awaits for you here. Arthur, I beg you for our friendship's sake; I beg you."

"Be my friend now and do not dissuade me. I can not follow you, Lancelot."

He could still feel the heat from his friend's hand as it grasped tightly to the back of his neck. The fire of anger still burned in both of them. In Arthur because he felt his last fifteen years a farce and needed to make it right and in Lancelot, because of all the things stolen from him in this Godforsaken land, none of them hurt like this. Arthur would die here, and there was nothing he could do to change that. In anger, he looked from one wall to the other. One was made of concrete and rock, the other was made of Arthur's faith and resolve. He claimed it was his faith that had pulled him though the dangers when he and the other knights could not. So maybe it was that faith that pulled even the heathen who rode with him through fights that none should not have survived, Lancelot didn't know. How he envied Arthur, how he envied his God.

By the time Lancelot stopped walking, he was in the stables. He was comfortable in the stables as were all Sarmatians for they were horsemen from birth, and if legend is truth, they would be come horses in death. For him it was a place of safety and strength and sometimes foolishness. It was here that he had confronted Arthur's faith; it was here that he had voiced his envy.

"Why does he talk to you, instead of me?" Lancelot whispered. "He calls you a merciful God and yet time after time you have placed him in the way of death," the young knight growled out loud. "I do not know you," he said frustrated, staring up as if he could see through the stable's ceiling. "But he does and he trusts you. That is enough for me to believe that you must exist somewhere, somehow. So I come to you."

He couldn't believe that he was doing this. Never before had he felt so helpless so unsure. he thrashed through the loose hay as if he were fighting an enemy, kicking, stomping and growling in anger. "I come to you," he yelled in disbelief. "What kind of God are you that you would bring such pain on your mortal son? What kind of fool is he that he still trusts you to bend his knees before you? Still, with all he has seen and all he has felt and all he has led us through, he has not faltered. Not from you and not from us. He would have gladly taken our place as a covenant for our freedom. I have seen it, in his eyes and in his heart. He would have gladly died for those long passed and fight and die for those still living. He, above all of us, deserves his freedom and yet has resolved to continue to fight in your name to protect those he was willing to kill just days before. So I come to you. For tomorrow when the time comes, only you will stand between him and the death that awaits him. Only you can see him safely to his future, so I come to you."

With that he dropped to his knees, his anger spent, his voice raspy from the fear that filled him and he continued. "He once came to you and begged you to protect us in exchange for whatever you might ask, including his life. I can't help but wonder if that was why the Woads left us when they had us trapped in the northern woods. You fulfilled your part in the covenant. It is more than what I have seen in the Romans, save for Arthur.

"I ask you to protect his back for we will not be there to watch it. Work one of the miracles that he so delights in the telling of, and should there come a time where you need a life to take to fulfill a covenant he might make for the sake of his new family, then I pray you take mine. He is my brother, my friend and my …religion…and should he die, there would be nothing left for me to believe in."

"You have saved him before. On the lake, the ice broke all around yet he brought our brother back to us. I can't help but wonder if Dagnet's life is what you took in exchange, for the chance of Arthur and the rest of us to survive what should have been certain death, for it was he above all of us, who closer to Arthur spiritually. It was Dagnet who trusted Arthur without question when Rome broke their word. It was he who forfeited his life so that the rest of us might live. What would I be giving up if it had been me? I am not a kind heart, like Galahad and Gwain. I have no family as Bors, nor the wisdom and love of nature like Tristan. I have nothing and less to offer you for the protection of Arthur save my life, my soul.

He says it is his faith in you that protects him. I beg of you, Protect him now, for this is a fool's mission and he is thinking as a fool. He has, I fear, forgotten us both. He claims you never forget him and that even we pagan are watched over. But now his every breath is for her. He does this for her, I know, and if I were in his place, I, too, would give my life for her love. That is the reason I can not stay. For I know I could love her without question. Her beauty and strength weakens my heart. If I stayed I would not be able to control myself. She drives me to distraction. He will need one of us to protect him, but it can not be me.

It is not for you he stays. Nay, he stays for her. I saw it in his eye when he first saw her. I felt it in my heart when I found her and lost her to his very soul. She is burning in my heart even now, but we are not meant to be. I would have abandoned her to the certain death she faced. I could not believe she would see one more day, yet alone the months we traveled returning to the wall. I feared I had lost my mind when she spoke to me, and knew that Arthur had lost his as well. I remember the moment I realized it was not my mind but my heart I had lost. It was on the ice as she stood by our side to fight the Saxon, she looked at me and I knew, it was my heart, not my mind and it was not lost but was stolen. It was stolen not only by her beauty but by her strength, determination and passion. She is a fire of passion that should have melted the ice from beneath our feet, flame of life that burns bright enough to warm everyone in her wake but she only shined for him. He is my brother; my friend. He is deserving of great things. I will not stand in the way but I can not stand to be in their presence. I must leave. I beg you. Remember Arthur and his love and keep them safe. And should it be that you need a life to validate this miracle… then take mine."

Lancelot paused only a few moments longer, wondering if Arthur's God would take him swiftly even before he could gain his feet, but He did not. He laughed. What made him think any god would take notice of him? He stopped only long enough to check in on his steed then closed the door behind them, leaving the room dark but for the place where Lancelot had knelt just moments before. A light seemed to shine from the ground outward, shadowing the faces of the noble beasts that stabled there. They whinnied and huffed but a moment, then quieted, lying down before the warmth of the light as it faded to black.


End file.
